


Temptation never looked prettier

by DrJackAndMissIole



Category: Glee
Genre: Crushes, F/F, Fear of Coming Out, Femslash, First Kiss, Girls Kissing, Mentions of Sex, Mild Smut, Smut-ish, insecure and vulnerable santana, mentions of Quinn Fabray - Freeform, not explicit sex but still, not really caring about sexuality brittany
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 06:13:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8478370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrJackAndMissIole/pseuds/DrJackAndMissIole
Summary: "I wanna make love to her.I want to see her tumble, shake and come.I want to bury my fingers inside of her and make her collapse.But we can't."orSantana sorts ouf her feelings and fears





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Melipedia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melipedia/gifts).



I wanna make love to her.

I want to see her tumble, shake and come.

I want to bury my fingers inside of her and make her collapse.

I want to hold her blonde hair as we share secret kisses.

I want  to kiss her like it's the last day of our lives.

But we can't, 'cause it's wrong, 'cause we’re both girls, who both had their fair share of boys.

I honestly don't remember the first guy I kissed, but I'd be damned if I ever forget the first time we locked lips.

She was so soft and warm, and I was so angry, so desperate to hide myself and I needed it so much, I needed to tell myself that it wasn’t true, that I wasn’t feeling like that.

But I was wrong.

Let's be real here, I've always repressed my feelings, 'cause I had been taught that they were wrong, right? But still, I had eyes and I could look. When I was in fourth grade I had a crush on this girl who was sweet and cute. She had a kind smile and pigtails on either side of her head. We held hands during recess and seated close to each other in class. The teachers said that we were best friends and that was the end of it. In eight grade I was caught staring at another girl’s chest, but I simply admitted that I liked the print of her shirt and the other kids stopped commenting on it.

Once I made it into the cheerleading team I thought “ _I'm doomed”_ , but I really wasn't, 'cause she was there, stupid little blonde girl who had her head up in the clouds all the time, and she didn't mind being looked at.

She was funny, with all the nonsense she spoke. It didn't ruin the scenario that she was also very hot, athletic body constricted into the small piece of red clothing.

She wasn't smart, not in the traditional way anyway. She had a mind of her own and she didn't get why something was wrong or right. She just did what she felt like doing at the moment. One day she wanted to be a cook, the next she wanted to kiss a random guy in the hall. Just 'cause she could, just 'cause she wanted to.

I was lost inside of her, inside her mind. I desperately wanted to taste her, breath her in, listen to her as long as I could. But I wasn't the only one.

Many boys had their heads up our skirts, 'cause we were cheerleaders, meaning the hottest worst-in-the-right-way bitches in the school and everyone either wanted to be us or _inside_ of us.

She passed boys like they were made out of paper, on Monday she would be kissing one of the guys in the football team and by Friday she would've gotten tired of him and dropped him. She didn’t do it with malice, she just got tired of them, of their mindless company, of them only wanting to spend time with her for what she could give them, under her pretty tight uniform.

She was different, I could feel it. I thought that if she knew about me, about what I liked, she wouldn't have minded. At some point, I started to think that she liked the same things too.

Me and Quinn had caught her staring openly at another cheerleader’s who was wearing only a pair of pink lace-ish panties. My mouth watered at the sight, of both the girl with her nipples exposed, hardened by the loss of heat into the room, and the other one who was staring at the girl the same way I did. Quinn brought us all back to reality, telling the girl to ‘cover up, because this is a locker room,  not a strip club where you can walk around naked and expect others to shut up’, she said with her usual sweet sugary voice.

Thanks to the Glee club we had grown very close, closer than acceptable. We spent every day in the company of each other, many afternoons went by as we laid on her bed, limbs tangled as we softly spoke to one another. She would speak her usual nonsense, about why she thought that the moon should use the maximum sun screen or why her cat was an undercover Russian spy.

I don’t know how it happened, it just did. She was talking as usual, I was laughing at her silly things, our fingers tangled, our legs brushing. One minute everything was normal and the next we both held our breaths, she had stopped talking, I had stopped laughing. I don’t know if I was the one to start it all or if it was all on her, I just remember how soft her lips had been, how warm her mouth was, how her fingers were intertwined with mine, like they made a perfect match. I remember also that I was the one to break it, to leave her lips partially open, her eyes softly closed. I had to break the contact, even though it was perfect. Even though I desperately wanted it. Even though it was the best kiss I had ever given or received in my short life.

I said it before, I kissed many boys, but everything else faded compared to the burst of electricity her lips sent through my body.

It was too good, too perfect, and I was too scared to keep on going. She managed to calm me, smoothing my panic with light touches and reassuring words. She hugged me as I cried, and nothing else really mattered.

For days I tried to stay away from her, but I couldn’t. She was everywhere. In the classrooms, in the cafeteria, in the halls, at cheerleading practice, at the Glee club. Always wearing the outfit, the same uniform that she had worn that day, she same uniform I had dreamed about so often.

I eventually confronted her, told her the truth. She understood, or at least that’s what she told me. She said she felt the same way, or kind of anyway. She asked if we could keep on doing what we did that other night, in secrecy. She said it could’ve been our little secret no one had to know about. She said it would be alright.

I tried to say no, but she made it all sound so easy, and I wanted to believe it, to believe it could actually work out. So I said yes.

And we did it. We managed to not let anything slip out, to keep our adventured to the secure walls of her bedroom, the only eyes prying on us her cat’s.

But we had a reputation to maintain; we were, after all, cheerleaders. We talked about it, and we decided to keep our horizons open. She went back to kiss random guys in the halls, I went back to make out with random boys in dark corners and empty classrooms. But in the afternoon we could be ourselves, we could enjoy ourselves. We could satisfy each other in ways that boys could not.

In those afternoons I would taste every inch of her body, running my lips along the long curve of her neck, licking my way to her most intimate parts, burying my head between her legs, devouring her until she was empty, of energy, of words, of thoughts. In those afternoons she would lock her lips to mine, let me explore the soft edges of her long body as she did the same to mine, waking goose bumps as she ran her fingers across my skin. She would put her long fingers inside of me, leaving me enough strength to say her name out loud, as a prayer. And then, in those beautiful afternoons, she would kiss away all my fears, all my insecurities. She would whisper silly things as we lay on her bed, completely exhausted and spent from our orgasms.

She was something else, I knew it. She made our situation look so good, so innocent. She made everything look pure and natural.

But we shouldn’t do it, and I have to remind myself every day that if anyone found out that would only mean trouble, and I don’t want to put her in trouble because of me.

I want to be with her forever, and I don’t know if she feels the same, but I do want it.

I want to be hers and her to be mine, to not have any boys around.

I want her lips to belong to me, her curves, her hot body, her beautiful soul.

I want to make love to her.

I know we shouldn’t, but I want to, and I can. And next time we are alone I’m gonna do just that.

‘Cause sin has never looked hotter and more appealing to my eyes, and I’m ready to sell my soul to worship her.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!  
> I hope you enjoyed this short story  
> Be kind enough to leave a comment to let me know what you thought about it  
> and also Buon Non Compleanno Mels, scusa il ritardo!  
> Thank you again  
> Bye bye


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